


i loved you, it's true

by bruisedbutlovely



Series: bittersweet words // oneshots [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dead Wilbur Soot, Family Reunions, Floris | Fundy Angst, Floris | Fundy Has Abandonment Issues, Floris | Fundy Needs A Hug, Floris | Fundy-centric, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, POV Floris | Fundy, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisedbutlovely/pseuds/bruisedbutlovely
Summary: Fundy meets his mother for the final time.
Series: bittersweet words // oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160981
Comments: 19
Kudos: 68





	i loved you, it's true

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i'm not dead!
> 
> this little one-shot is dedicated to my partner who knows who they are. love you, sweetheart!
> 
> now, the reason i've been off for so long is because I have a huge story planned. that should come out before christmas and i think it's my best yet.
> 
> but for now, enjoy some angst!

Fundy loved his mother. 

Oh, he didn’t remember her but from the stories Wilbur told, from the words he weaved in complex webs, from the offhand comments that no one but Fundy noticed, he knew that he loved her. 

Even though she left. 

Maybe he was simply building a picture in his head of her, of his mother and who she would be if she never left that one winter day. Maybe he was making his own version of her that could only be true if she never left in the morning, before Fundy was even awake. Maybe he was pretending like she never left with just a kiss on Fundy’s forehead and a note that didn’t explain anything, that was gone before he could even read. 

Maybe, just maybe, he was trying to cope. 

The war was over. 

L’Manburg was gone. 

~~Wilbur Soot~~ Dad was _gone_. 

Sometimes, Fundy wondered if this all would have happened if his mother just stayed. 

Sometimes, Fundy believed that none of this would have happened if she didn’t leave. 

If she didn’t leave, Wilbur would have never built L’Manburg because he would have no reason to make a place for the people who felt lost. If she didn’t leave, Fundy wouldn’t have grown up in a war where it seemed like sleep never came and the sword’s handle felt too familiar in his grip. If she didn’t leave, there would have never been a lost election and Fundy would have never had to play the spy that made him grow up even faster. If she didn’t leave, there would have never been another war that forced a traitor in their ranks and caused his own father to finally lose it all. If she didn’t leave, L’Manburg would still be standing or in the best case scenario, never real to begin with. 

If she didn’t leave, his father would still be alive.

Fundy loved her. 

Fundy never knew her. 

Fundy just wanted to meet her.

When he was younger, Wilbur would tell the most beautiful stories of a girl he met by the river with flaming red hair and a smile that could have been compared to a goddess’s. He told his son of the days and night they spent on the bank of the river, laughing and talking and falling in love. He told his son of the adventures they had, running through the woods in a way only love-sick couples could do and holding hands so they would never be separated.

Oh, the poetic irony that life brings _unwillingly_. 

He remembered that she was tall, not as tall as Wilbur but still tall. He remembered her hair was as red and as untamabled as his. He remember her to be sweet and caring and everything that a mother should be but what does he know, his mom left when he was nine and he could barely remember her and he just wanted to finally see the woman who tore his family apart and caused his father to go insane and caused all of the shitty things that happened in his life. 

Fundy blamed his mother.

If she was there, maybe everything would have been different.

Maybe, he wouldn’t be standing here on the river bank after L’Manburg’s finale. 

The finale that took away the rest of Fundy’s family. 

The water was supposed to be calming, pushing itself down the river towards the ocean but if anything, it only served to agitate Fundy more. Slowly approaching the rapid waters, he sat down at the edge of the bank, letting his fingers dip into roaring waves and trying not to let himself slip away, trying not to let himself be taken in by the tide. 

Fundy didn’t know how long he sat there, simply staring off.

It was daytime when he came out here, desperate to get away from the suffocating smell of blood and ash, to get away from the body that lied taunting him in the button room, to get away from the pitiful looks the others gave, to get away from the crater that used to be his home.

To get away from it all.

The sun was now setting, dousing the world in dark oranges and reds with accents of sweet yellow. It was supposed to be calming, to be a final send off to the day that Fundy would give anything to forget but if anything...if anything, it seemed like the beginning. 

The beginning of a new era. 

And maybe, just maybe, Fundy could finally move on. 

“The last time I saw you, you were only nine.”

Fundy wanted to meet her.

“The day you were born was one of the best days of my life.”

  
  
Fundy looked over his shoulder, finally seeing _her_. 

She was just how Fundy remembered her; tall, pretty, a red head with a smile of pure gold. Her voice was as soft as butterflies, as sweet as honey and her eyes seemingly promised everything and nothing at once. 

He hated how she looked.

“Then why did you leave?”

Sally flinched back as if she had been struck. “My son…”

  
  
“I am not your son.”

There was conviction in his words and you simply had to believe they were true. 

“Fundy,” She tried again. “I couldn’t stay with you two.”

  
  
“Why? Were we not good enough for you?”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know that.”

“Really? I know that?” Fundy finally stood from the bank, turning around to face his mother for the first time in his life. He’s been dreaming of this day for his entire life; so, why did the words keep falling out of his mouth? “I know nothing about you, I know nothing of who you are or why you chose what you did. I only know that one day in winter, you left and never came back.”

His words were acid and his tongue was poison.

“Wilbur and I were young but in love,” Sally took a tentative step forward, her words dripping sugar so unlike Fundy’s. “We thought we could take on the whole world and come out the other side, holding each other’s hands with no scratches on us. We were wrong.”  
  


Her hands curled up in front of her. “We ran away when we were only sixteen, when I found out I was pregnant only a few days earlier. We only had a bag to share and the clothes on our back but it didn’t matter because we had each other. And then, you came along.”

  
  
“This is the part where you leave.”

She averted her eyes, her eyes that matched Fundy’s so perfectly. “Winter was coming and we had nothing. We could barely feed ourselves, let alone a newborn baby. And my parents wanted me home.”

  
  
“So, you abandon us,” Fundy’s hands curled into fists and he shook with unbridled rage. “As soon as things get difficult and hard, you suddenly can’t take it and leave.”

“I wanted to stay-”

  
  
“Sure you did.”

The world was silent, seemingly holding its breath. 

“Where’s Wilbur?”

Fundy laughed, low and viciously; if anyone could hear it, they would say it sounded vaguely familiar to a mad man’s laugh. “Him? He’s dead.”

  
  
“Dead?”

  
  
“His body isn’t cold yet,” Fundy opened his arms in a mockery. “You were simply a few hours too late.”

“He can’t be-”

  
  
“My father is dead, killed by his father. Ironic, isn’t it? Of course, that was after he blew up L’Manburg.”

“Wil could never. That’s not the man I remember.”

  
  
“The man you remember died a long time ago,” Fundy smiled victoriously, almost like he knew he was winning because she was the one in pain. “I think he died when you left him, when you left your son, when you left your _family_.”

“You’re still my family,” She had tears dripping down her perfect fucking face now; everything about her was so godamn perfect, it was infuriating. “You’re still my son, you’re still my little boy and I’m still your mother.”

Fundy had to turn away; he couldn’t look at her, look at the tears falling down her face, look at the genuine heartbreak in her eyes. He couldn’t do it. 

Fundy couldn’t look at his mother. 

“You’re still my family, Fundy. And you can be mad at me all you want-”

“Of course I’m mad! You disappear for who knows how many years and come back when the war is finally over, when the dust settles, when everything is finally finished and you think you can just waltz back in here? You think you can just come back and suddenly, I’m fine and happy? You think you’re going to get your family back?”

Sally looked up, determination shining brightly in her eyes like the stars that Wilbur used to tell Fundy about. “I want a chance to try.”

  
  
“I gave you chances,” Fundy stared out at the river, its rhythm as familiar as a beating heart. “Everyday, I would go to bed, dreaming of the idea of my mother finally returning. Everyday, I would glance out my window, hoping that you were coming down the path. Everyday, I would ask dad when mom was coming back.”

“And every day, he would say the same thing; ‘she’s not coming back’.”

Sally walked forward until she was a foot behind him. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she began to whisper. “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry that your father is dead. I’m sorry for a lot of things, my son, and I know that my apologies are probably nothing more than empty words to you but I mean every word I say.”

“Please, I just want the chance to be back in your life again.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I loved you, you know that? I loved you so much.”

  
  
Fundy’s words were of a man who had lost too much, who grieved too much, who simply wanted it all to end.

He just wanted to move on. 

“Then one day you simply didn’t come home. But I still loved you. One day turned into two which turned into three which turned into weeks, into days, into months, into years but I still loved you. I went through a war, through betrayal, through horror and I still loved you. I went through tyranny, through lies, through traitors and I still loved you. I went through destruction, through pain, through death and I still loved you.” 

He shrugged her hand off his shoulder and began to walk down the river bank, away from her, away from her memories, away from his childhood dream, away from everything that he ever knew. 

Fundy gave her one last glance.

“I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it’s true.”

  
  
He walked away.

Fundy hated his mother.   
  
  


  
  



End file.
